"Disclaimer...everytime I go to write on this blog, I feel like a faker. I candy coat everything in such a cheesy fashion that I find myself not writing much of anything anymore (well unless it is about Lu!). Everything I want to write, I feel like it will be offensive, or gross, or not appropriate for my profession. But I want to write and I want to write what I think. So here I go..."
I am sure like many others, there are so many things that have changed since having a baby. I am not talking about love and fear of being a mother, or not being able to go on 3 hours bike rides, or getting no sleep (although I do think this has it’s affects), or the hour tears that never streamed before at things like on star commercial; or the visions of when you go for a walk, that a car is going to bash your stroller and drag your child along the rode with it never being able to get your child and screaming a scream of death on the side of the rode. I am not talking about those types of things, I am talking about me. Things are just different. First off, all the pregnancy symptoms that people are suppose to get while they are pregnant, I got after pregnancy. Everything sounds loud. I eat like I am eating for seven. And my sinuses have gone mad. I had never had this amount of snot in my nose, which results in a large number of boogers. The thing about boogers though, is that I am a picker. And yes, I pick my boogers. And not with tissue. You cannot get your boogers out of your nose if you use tissue. In fact if you see me using tissue, I am just tricking you and trying to be polite. I actually poke my finger through the tissue. So back to the boogers and the picking. Don’t think of adding breastfeeding into the mix. One might wonder how picking and breastfeeding go together. But if you breastfeed, you have a lot of time to do nothing, but use one hand in a close range of your body and what does this one hand do…picks my nose. I feel like Pavlov’s dogs…it has created this awful habit and for those who have seen my nose I am paying a price. It is swollen, crusty and cracked and it will not go away.
Other things that have changed are my taste buds. I cannot get enough chocolate. I HATED chocolate before. I also hated sandwiches, now I like them. (I know how do you hate sandwiches?) I also use to LOVE Thai food, now I want nothing to do with it. Some might think it is because I threw it up while it labor, but no, I also threw up ice cream and I still LOVE that. Oh yeah, I like white wine now too, weird!
Next, I use to hate to wear jeans, now it is all I wear. Mostly because it hides the panty line. I HATE PANTY LINES, but I have to wear granny panties now…arghh! Thank you hemorrhoids. I have 8 total. 4 inside, 4 out. They are pretty much the worst part of having a child for me. I can handle the pain and the blood of them, but I just can’t handle the panty lines. How is someone whose wardrobe consists of glorified yoga clothes suppose to look cute with panty lines. Well it just can’t, so now I wear jeans. And not because I got "mom-butt", just because I am now a mom.
Finally, I got taller. And the one thing I was sure of, didn’t happen. My feet did NOT stay a size 12. Thank goodness.
